


A Seinfeld Moment

by Dolimir



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, None - Freeform, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like the title implies - just a Seinfeld moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Seinfeld Moment

## A Seinfeld Moment

by Dolimir

No copyright infringement intended. No money made (well, not for me at least) *eg*

Written for Sally. 

* * *

"Have you been waiting long?" Blair asked, his tone apologetic, as he slipped into the booth and picked up the red vinyl menu in front of him. 

Jim looked up from his menu and shook his head. "No. Only a few minutes. I had to finish the Henderson report, so I was running a bit late myself." 

The waitress stopped by the table and place a pot of hot tea in front of Blair. "The usual, Mr. Blair?" 

"Yes, Mei, that sounds fantastic. Thank you." 

"Mr. Jim? The moo goo gai pan or the egg fu yung?" 

"I'm thinking the egg fu yung tonight." 

"Planning leftovers for breakfast?" Blair teased as he handed the waitress his menu. 

"Thank you, Mei," Jim murmured as he did the same. 

She smiled brightly at them. "I'll be right back with your soup." 

"How was the meeting with your advisor?" Jim asked once she'd left. 

"Same old `you're late with your dissertation chapter'. Same old threats of academic crucifixion. Yada. Yada. Yada." Blair raised his arms and laid them outstretched against the back of the booth seat, lowering his head to complete the classical pose. 

"Are they serious this time?" 

"They're always serious." Blair shrugged. "So, I'll turn in a chapter on Monday and promise to do better until I miss the next deadline." 

Jim frowned. "How long are you going to keep playing this game?" 

"Until someone catches on." Blair leaned back in his seat and smiled at Mei as she placed his soup in front of him. 

Jim waited until she left to ask, "What do you mean until someone catches on?" 

Crushing several fried noodles into his bowl, Blair said, "It means, I finished my dissertation last year. But we both know that without the dissertation, Simon," Blair paused and closed his eyes a moment before continuing, "won't renew my ride-along pass because, as he's so fond of telling me, I'm not a cop. So I'll keep spoon feeding the dissertation to my committee until they lay down the ultimate ultimatum or until someone at the PD gets wise and kicks me out for good." 

"You...last...I had no idea," Jim said, torn between awe and humility. 

Blair blew on his soup and took a sip. 

Absently rubbing his temple, Jim asked, "I'm assuming you want to continue the ride-along?" 

Blair ignored the question and frowned at him. "Headache?" 

Knowing better than to push the subject at the moment, Jim nodded. 

"How long have you been suffering with it?" 

It was Jim's turn to shrug. "Since lunch. Joel and I went to Wonderburger and we got stuck between two different sets of screaming kids while waiting in line. I was starting to think that plunging a knife into my brain might be a viable alternative to listen to the brats scream." 

Blair sighed in irritation, then plunked his spoon in his bowl. "Give me your hand." 

"Sandburg--" 

"Shut up and give me your damn hand." 

Obediently, Jim did as instructed. Blair started to massage the juncture of his thumb and index finger. 

"Why didn't you work your pressure points?" 

Jim sighed in relief as he felt the muscles in his neck start to relax. "You know I've never gotten the hang of doing that myself." 

"You retard," Blair said in affectionate exasperation. "I think you're the only person on the planet who can't find their own points." He paused for a moment, then said quietly, "You shouldn't have let it get so bad." 

"Would you have come down to the station if I'd called?" 

Again, Blair ignored the question. He concentrated on working the hand for several more minutes, then patted it and sat it back on the table. 

Mei returned with their entrees, but instead of chatting like she normally did, she simply put them on the table and left, as if sensing the growing tension between them. 

"Are you coming home?" Jim asked, not looking at Blair while he picked at his food. 

"I haven't left home," Blair said simply. 

"You don't come home until after I go to bed and you leave before I wake up. If it wasn't for the fact that your side of the bed is unmade in the mornings and I still have to pick up your wet towels when I take my shower, I'd wonder if you'd been home at all this week." 

Blair popped a piece of sesame chicken in his mouth and chewed for a long time. "I don't know what you want me to say, Jim." 

"I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to let it go." 

Blair looked down at his plate. "I don't know if I can." 

"The guys have been asking about you. They're worried because they know it's not time for midterms or finals." 

A small smile graced Blair's face. "Since when do they know anything about academic calendars?" 

"They are detectives, you know." 

Blair shrugged, and ate another piece of chicken. 

"He feels awful about it, if that's any consolation." 

"Why should he feel bad?" Blair asked, looking up and frowning. "After all, it was his office. We were trespassing." 

"He thinks he reacted badly." 

"He did," Blair said quietly. "But given the circumstances, I think his reaction is understandable." 

"No one else knows." 

"I know." 

Jim sighed heavily. "It was just a kiss, Blair. It's not like I was blowing you in his office." 

Blair chuckled, startling Jim. "Can you picture what his face would..." 

Jim laughed and for a moment they lost themselves in the mirth. 

"I miss you," Jim said softly once they quieted, his gaze never leaving his lover's. "I miss us." 

"I know. It's just that I've been--" 

"Embarrassed?" 

Blair nodded. 

"So what are we going to do?" 

Looking thoughtful, Blair ate another piece of chicken. "We're going to finish dinner, go home, and I'll think about letting you make it up to me." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"You know, I--" 

"Yeah, Jim. I know." Blair's smile, although small, was warm. "Right back at you." 

~ End ~ 

* * *

End A Seinfeld Moment by Dolimir: Dolimir@aol.com

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